Sweet & Sweet
by Dessert Maniac
Summary: One sunny spring day, Kotori and Honoka go on a picnic. Kotori remembers to stop and smell the roses. It's an ordinary day in two young adults' lives in the village of Otonokizaka. [Magic, Industrial Revolution AU.]


_Note: "Whole Wide World" by Mindy Gledhill. Title from "Sweet &Sweet Holiday" by Printemps.  
_

* * *

 **Sweet & Sweet**

There's never a lack of business in the shop.

Summer and autumn bring countless work clothes to be patched, winter has bulky, fur-lined _everything_ coming in and out, but _spring_ —spring is full of commissions, patrons requesting everything from new overalls to wedding dresses and baby clothes.

Of course, she doesn't mind the everyday work of summer, autumn, and winter! It's important, after all, for their town of farmers and artisans.

It's just… well… spring is…

"Kotori!"

She squeaks, diving for one of the dresses on the rack off to the side; she has only just managed to drag it atop her work when Honoka practically materializes in front of her, calling:

"Ko-to-ri!"

"H-Honoka," she greets with a weak smile and a wince. Her heart's still racing, though she's counting on Honoka's obliviousness to keep the surprise a surprise. "Is it lunch already?"

Honoka barely spares a glance at Kotori's work table and eschews responding to her question, instead leaning over the entire mess to try to pull Kotori into her arms.

Relieved, she leans forward even as she protests, "You're going to get stabbed by needles, Honoka."

"Ah!" Honoka pulls back, dramatically clutching her left side and staggering back. She whimpers, "Kotori's words have come true! I have been mortally wounded! What ever shall I do now?"

"Oh, no," she replies—if her inflection falls flat, it's because she's trying not to burst out laughing at Honoka's pouty expression.

However, when Honoka suggests, "A kiss from a lovely maiden might heal me…," a mischevious smile playing on her lips despite the act, Kotori has to cover her mouth with her hands to smother her giggles.

"If—" she clears her throat—"if that's what it takes to heal my brave baker, then a kiss I will gladly give away!"

"You're supposed to call me a _knight_ , Kotori," Honoka whines and drops to her knees with a heavy _thump_ that makes Kotori wince, though apparently it doesn't hurt Honoka at all (if she even noticed).

Moving around the desk to where Honoka is contemplating her next move, Kotori scolds, "You have to be more careful with yourself, Honoka! Are you hurt anywhere?"

With another pout, Honoka mutters, "No… except my pride because Kotori called me a baker. Maybe a kiss will make it better…?" Her eyebrows waggle—whether in a serious attempt at seduction or not, Kotori's honestly not sure.

"Stop that," Kotori places her hands atop Honoka's eyebrows. Well, at least Honoka's not grinning lecherously ( _one_ Miss Nozomi is more than enough for their town). "And you _are_ a baker, Honoka."

"Eh? I can't see anything, Kotori. Besides, I'm not a baker; I'm only an apprentice," Honoka protests, though she doesn't move away.

She shakes her head, saying, "Because it makes you look weird, and I don't need a knight."

"Does that mean I don't get a kiss?" Honoka's shoulders slump down and her head leans heavily against Kotori's hands.

"No," she replies, just to elicit a whine from Honoka—her Honoka is too adorable.

But Kotori gives in, tugging Honoka up by the lapels of her shirt to stand so that she can kiss her; the grin that replaces the pout makes them both giggle, and then Honoka pulls away to nuzzle into Kotori's neck.

"S-Stop, that t-tickles!" She tries to squirm out of Honoka's grasp, but the arms around her waist don't budge even a little. Instead, she's pulled even closer to Honoka, the space between their bodies almost nonexistent.

Kotori rests her chin on Honoka's head; Honoka suggests, her breath warm against Kotori's neck, "Want to go on a picnic?"

"Mm, do we have enough time?" she asks, because Honoka probably overlooked the demanding workload of their apprenticing duties; it _is_ spring.

"We're not going to go far," Honoka reassures, "and I already have the stuff we need. Please?" She blinks up at Kotori, cerulean eyes earnest and hopeful.

Kotori hesitates for all of a second before agreeing. A picnic in this peaceful spring weather actually sounds like a wonderfully romantic idea.

"Then let's go!" Honoka grabs her hand, intent on whisking her away that very moment.

"Wait, Honoka!" she laughs. "I have to clean up, first," she says as she tugs Honoka back, much to Honoka's vocal displeasure.

"Ko-to- _ri_!"

"It won't take long," Kotori replies. She pulls out her wand, sweeps it across her work desk, and says, "See?" as threads, measuring tape, pins, and needles all make their way back into her sewing kit.

No less than four needles fly out of Honoka's sweater to rejoin their friends.

Kotori's mouth falls open.

"Eheh," Honoka rubs the back of her head, "I _told_ you I was wounded."

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Kotori tugs at Honoka's sweater.

Catching her hands, Honoka reassures her, "'Tis but a mere scratch, milady!" She puffs up her chest and cheeks to appear impressive.

It makes Kotori smile despite her worry, though she does tweak Honoka's cheek in reprimand; Honoka only grins more widely.

"Let me just get my coat. Wait in front for me, okay?"

"'Kay!"

She waits until Honoka's voice can be heard talking on the other side of the shop, Master Kaname's replies too quiet to be heard; only then does she return to her work desk.

The poor dress she used as a cover is wrinkled now, so she passes her wand over it before returning it to the rack of finished projects.

She can't help but glance nervously towards the door, half-expecting Honoka to appear and scold her for taking so long. Luck stays on her side, however, letting her scoop up her personal project into her arms and return it to its hanger on the rack of in-progress projects.

Her wand once again smooths away the wrinkles and her hand brushes away stray thread ends from one of the sleeves.

The color of the bits of thread and the other commissions makes the crisp, bright white of it stand out even more. On the far left breast, an elaborate _K_ is stitched in orange, and each one of the cloth buttons along the double breast is an ivory white to give a little _pop_.

"Perfect," she whispers.

Perfect for her Honoka, who will soon complete her dual apprenticeship at her parents' sweets shop and at Master Tomoe's bakery.

But it's not yet time, so she places its black cover back over it.

With that done, Kotori hurries to grab her coat and join Honoka, who is chattering away with a customer—a strikingly tired-looking woman—and blithely swinging a picnic basket in her right hand.

A little boy is at the left portion of the shop, giggling as a dancing measuring tape takes his measurements; his chubby hands grasp at the measuring tape only for it to slip out of his grasp at the last minute.

"Ah, Master Kaname," Kotori calls, her hand slipping into Honoka's left, "I'll be going with Honoka for the lunch break, if you please."

Master Kaname glances up from where she's helping the boy's mother select bolts of cloth and replies, "Don't go too far, girls. There've been reports that enemy scouts have been spotted near UTX, so we can't be too safe these days."

"We'll be fine, don't worry!" Honoka waves a hand, practically drowning out Kotori's promise of, "We'll be careful, Master."

"Do listen to Master Kaname," the little boy's mother urges them. "The king has recently been deploying more soldiers in nearby towns. War is no light matter."

"Exactly, Mrs. Yazawa," Master Kaname agrees. She pins Honoka with a look.

Honoka pauses, then agrees, "Kotori and me will stay close, we promise."

"Then, have fun!"

"Fun," the little boy echoes, smiling slowly with pudgy cheeks.

"We will!" Honoka declares, beaming once again.

Both Kotori and Honoka wave to him, bow to Master Kaname, and nod to Mrs. Yazawa on their way out.

Outside the shop, Honoka asks, "Hm. Where should we go? To the woods on the south?"

"How about the meadow on the north side of town," Kotori suggests. "The flowers there are really pretty this time of year."

"Yes! Great idea, Kotori." Honoka nods sharply and nearly flings their picnic basket into the sky when she pumps her fist.

"Um, maybe I should hold the basket, Honoka…?"

"Heh, maybe you should."

Afterwards, Honoka appears content with simply swinging their clasped hands between them, letting Kotori set the pace as they walk.

She must be tired after a whole morning's worth of work at the bakery—her apprenticeships take up most of her time now that she's not at school anymore. So much time, in fact, that Kotori rarely sees her these days.

"I'm glad I get to spend lunchtime with Kotori today," Honoka says suddenly, as if reading her thoughts.

"Me, too," Kotori says, smiling. She tightens her grip on Honoka's hand.

She wishes they had more time.

If only she didn't have to leave Honoka over and over again. If only Honoka didn't have to leave her over and over again. If only they could be together every second of the day.

But it isn't the time yet.

They have to wait…

"Why the long face?" Honoka asks, bumping their shoulders together to jostle Kotori out of her thoughts.

Lips pinching together, she evades, "I'm just a little tired, that's all. You know how busy the tailor's has been lately. Spring is the busiest season of all, and now that we're a couple hands short because Master Kaname's younger brother had to go on that trip to the capitol, and… and…." She stops talking, afraid of admitting what _really_ bothers her.

"And?" Honoka tilts her head. There's only gentle understanding in her sad smile.

"I'm tired of saying goodbye to Honoka."

Honoka isn't surprised; her sad smile turns into a wider, happier one and she replies, "I don't like saying goodbye to Kotori, either, but soon enough we won't have to.

"Just you wait! A year will go by in a blink of an eye."

Kotori sighs, mumbles, "Yeah." A year is still _forever_ from now.

"C'mon, grumpypants," Honoka cajoles, bounding forward and pulling Kotori along. "It's too beautiful a day to mope!"

She stumbles for a moment. When she regains her footing, she sighs again, though this time it's in fond exasperation at Honoka's boundless energy.

It _is_ a beautiful day, because Honoka says so and because—well, it's spring.

Leaving the quiet Matsuoka neighborhood behind, they arrive onto the main street of the town, where many more people go to and fro about their business. Further down from where they emerge, the town square attracts a hub of peddlers and patrons, the clatter of horse carriages and the shouting of salesmen echoing far and wide. Overlooking the bustle, Kotori's mother is going about her mayoral duties in town hall.

Today, however, that's not their destination. Instead, they walk farther up along the main street to where the cobbled street begins to peter out into a dirt road. Here, the houses give way to the militia's training grounds.

"Do you think Umi would mind if we stopped to say hello to her?" she asks; it's been a while since they saw her, too.

"She might get angry if we interrupt her," Honoka answers, frowning uncertainly. "You know how… serious… she was, last time."

 _Serious_ is putting it lightly, but now's not the time for sad thoughts.

"We're almost there," Kotori announces. She picks up her pace so that she's the one in the lead this time, and Honoka giggles as she catches up and starts walking even faster.

They end up in a sort-of contest, each trying to outpace the other—though, since they're still holding hands, their contest dissolves into an impromptu game of tug-of-war that Honoka only wins because she has an unfair advantage in strength.

Kotori squeals as she falls forward and Honoka brings her other arm up to catch Kotori around the waist.

"Hi," Honoka says, their faces close enough that Kotori can feel Honoka's warm breath over her lips.

"Hi," she breathlessly replies.

With a grin, Honoka points out, "Your hair's a mess."

"Geez, who's fault is that?" Kotori pouts. Then, the thought occurs to her, "Do you think our picnic stuff is okay? I hope we didn't break anything." With all the jostling…

"Don't worry!" Honoka puffs up. "I asked Mom to put a cushioning charm on it."

Honoka looks so proud at her foresight that Kotori can't help but close the meager space between them to kiss her.

Their noses bump into each other, making Honoka tighten her grip on Kotori's waist, and Kotori gladly steps closer.

When they pull away for breath, Kotori buries her face in Honoka's neck to breathe in the scent of bread that never seems to leave Honoka.

"I'm hungry," Honoka says.

Laughing, Kotori steps away to pick up the picnic basket from where she dropped it earlier. "You and your stomach, Honoka," she teases.

Honoka grins; she barely manages to catch the picnic blanket that Kotori throws at her face.

"Hurry up, Honoka! The meadow is just past this hill," Kotori calls back over her shoulder.

"Meanie," Honoka sulks though she can't quite stop her mouth from twitching into a smile.

At the crest of the hill, Kotori pauses to admire the Impressionistic effect of the gently swaying flowers against the fresh green of the grass, all surrounding the stone grey well with its terra cotta roof. Slowly, she makes her way down.

Red, blue, yellow, and everything in between….

Bees and butterflies flit around the flowers, dusted with golden pollen and filling the air with their gentle hum.

"It's so pretty..."

She takes a deep breath of sweet air—more like honey and, well, _flowers_ than Honoka's sugary-sweet scent. A cool breeze teases her hair and the skirt and ribbons of her dress.

"Isn't it beautiful, Honoka?"

"Very," Honoka's voice answers from an unexpected distance; Kotori turns to find Honoka still at the top of the hill, staring directly at her.

Honoka's shirt sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, the same breeze ruffles Honoka's untucked shirttails and skirt, and her once-shiny black shoes are spattered with mud.

From this position, the sun bathes Honoka in a light yellow.

Somehow, however, Honoka's lightly wrinkled shirt retains its pristine white color.

Honoka's eyes are a clear blue.

 _That_ is what Kotori always sees: Honoka's pure color.

Yes, she knows just as well as anyone Honoka's faults and failures, but what _matters_ is that Honoka is true to herself.

What does it matter that Honoka can't freely use magic?

"I meant the _meadow_ , Honoka!"

"I know, but Kotori is just as beautiful!" Honoka answers to Kotori's embarrassment.

No, it doesn't matter, because Honoka is perfect just as she is.

"Geez… well, aren't you hungry?" Kotori asks.

Honoka hurries down the hill in response, a wide grin firmly at home in her delighted expression.

"You're so cute when you blush, Ko~to~ri~" Honoka sing-songs upon catching up to Kotori.

"…If you say so," Kotori mumbles. "B-but, we're here for a picnic, Honoka!"

"Okay, okay!" Honoka pulls out the picnic blanket from under her arm; with a flourish, she has it laid out over the grass in a perfect square. Then, she reaches for the picnic basket in Kotori's hand, but Kotori touches her shoulder to stop her.

"Look." She pulls out her wand, examines the contents of the picnic basket, and envisions how to lay them out on the picnic blanket. A sweep of her wand has the items flying out of the picnic basket to do just that, glass glinting and scintillating in the sunlight.

Watching with wide eyes, Honoka breathes, "Amazing. Kotori is amazing," making Kotori blush.

"I-it's nothing," she mumbles just as a rumble—of thunder?—passes overhead.

"Eh?"

Pausing as well, Kotori glances up—there are storm clouds quickly converging above them, where clear blue skies used to be.

She stares for a moment.

Thunder rumbles overhead again.

"Quick! Gather everything up!" she exclaims, hastily undoing her work with a reverse sweep of her wand.

They're not fast enough to avoid the abrupt drizzling, but Honoka manages to stuff the picnic blanket into the basket in time to pull Kotori up with one hand and dash to the relative safety of the well house.

Moments after they reach the well, the light drizzle turns into steady rain.

"April showers," Kotori groans. Her head drops onto Honoka's shoulder.

Silence for a moment, then:

"It's like what Umi likes to say." Honoka smiles at the rain in front of them. "Good things come to those who wait. In this case, April showers bring May flowers!"

Kotori grumbles in response, "Our picnic has been canceled…. Now we have to wait until _another_ day…." And who can guarantee that Honoka, or even herself, will be free any time soon?

Disappointment curls in her stomach.

Such a _perfect_ day… gone to _waste_.

"It's okay, we can eat here until the rain passes." Honoka sets the picnic basket on the wide lip of the well. Her eyes light up, an idea occurring to her. "We can huddle under the blanket if we get cold!"

"Since when are you the patient one?" Kotori pouts, casting a forlorn look to the now-soaked meadow.

"Well," Honoka drawls, "since Kotori became _im_ patient! And because Umi's not here to keep the balance, it's up to _me_ to do so."

There's a pause, both of them regarding each other with serious gazes, the rain's _pitter_ - _patter_ on the well house roof suddenly loud, and then—

"Kotori really is worth the wait," Honoka whispers, nearly inaudible against the rain.

Her breath hitches in her throat.

She whispers back, "So is Honoka. I don't need a knight when I have Honoka."

It makes Honoka laugh—loud, genuine laughter that douses Kotori's recalcitrance in full-hearted delight and brings a corresponding grin to her face.

"What do you say, Kotori?" Honoka asks once her laughter has settled. She stretches out her right hand, finger tips barely brushing the rain.

Lunch here, on the well, doesn't sound like such a bad idea. But, watching Honoka grin at the rain pattering on her hand, a type of… wanderlust seizes her heart.

In response, a bright red umbrella materializes in Honoka's hand. She half-turns to extend her free hand in invitation to Kotori.

"Do you want to go, Kotori?"

Honoka _has_ magic, no matter what everyone says. How else did that umbrella appear? What else could the faint glow around Honoka's profile against the light grey of the rain be?

It's Honoka's special brand of magic.

But Honoka doesn't _need_ magic.

Kotori steps forward. Her hand slips into Honoka's, warm and tight and secure.

"Okay!"

Spring is… her favorite time of the year.

/\

* * *

 **a/n:**

I have no idea how this whim ended up so long. I apologize if some parts (or the entire thing) seem rushed; once I get these random ideas in my head, I try to work through them as quickly as possible so that I don't deviate too long from my planned projects.

The story takes place in an AU that I have in mind. Since I haven't yet made up my mind on whether or not I'll write the whole AU, I decided to take the opportunity to test out a few concepts, character designs, etc. to see how they work in practice. I might do a few more of these in the future, if anyone's interested...

In other news, Anne-Happy ended and I'm sad :( I'll rewatch it soon, but I think I'm also going to read the manga (shock!). I really want to write something for it, too.

Also, today I was watching this obscure little anime called Aiura, in between writing "Sweet & Sweet." I am convinced that Kanaka Amaya changed her name, transferred to Otonokizaka, and became a school idol.

Next up (whenever I get around this block), Honoka and Maki get engaged! Hopefully I'll finish writing that one within the next week... but who am I fooling, haha...

Enough of my rambling.

Pretty please review! ^^


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